


Lullaby For Liquid Pig

by proterozoic



Series: Liquid [1]
Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Banter, Chronic Illness, Deaf Character, Disability, Domestic, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Maids, Menstruation Kink, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2018-10-17 03:58:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10585968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/proterozoic/pseuds/proterozoic
Summary: During the closest to a common life he's had, Logan finds a maid, knowing things won't always be this quiet.





	1. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is technically a ReaderxCharacter thing, but I’m giving Reader a particular personality, appearance, nationality, and such, just that Logan refers to you as you/Name. Initially I'd given Reader a name but then realized it wasn't very necessary.

_Day 1_  
One morning the smell of someone approaching woke me up. Then I heard the knock. I’d forgotten about the sign I had posted outside my apartment’s door, so I didn’t make an effort aside from putting pants on. For that reason, I didn’t expect to see a woman outside. Your hair was a braid over your head like a crown and you wore a long dress, almost like you wanted to make it obvious you were or wanted to be a maid. Of course I didn’t think of that until you spoke.  
"Who are you?" I first asked, trying to level my voice "And what do you want?"  
"Mister… Logan, right?" You took the paper taped on the door and showed it to me. The voice I heard was different from what I expected. It sounded like it came from the back of your throat, a bit deeper than your very feminine appearance suggested. "I’m here because I thought I could be your maid."  
I re-read what I had written.

_Need a live-in maid, open-minded._  
_-Logan_

I almost didn't recognize what I had written. Maybe the vague wording was why you were the only one to show up. I thought you were naive about what I meant, otherwise I would’ve told you the job was yours in that moment.  
"Huh... come in." I told you, still staring at my sign.  
You said nothing, only walked and sat across me on the closest thing to a living room my apartment had.  
"I just want to make sure things are clear before we see what happens."  
You just nodded.  
"What's your name, first of all?"  
"My name is" you started as while reaching for something in your bag and took out paper and a pen to write your name.  
I imitated the sound you made to pronounce your surname after you handed me the paper.  
"Well, I see you’re the traditional type." I told you, trying my best to be subtle "But this isn’t that kind of job."  
Your brows went higher like you didn’t believe me.  
"I’m willing to comply with whatever requests you have, Mr. Logan." you said, now looking at me.  
Suddenly it felt dirty to even tell you what I had in mind, but I wasn’t too ashamed.  
"I was thinking you could wear more revealing clothes. Do you even own any?"  
You frowned for a moment, then spoke. "I do own many."  
It seemed difficult for me to imagine you in anything other than the only things I’d seen you wear.  
"And maybe let your hair down too, it looks so serious and Old Europe."  
Again, you just nodded.  
"And another thing" I said "We only have one bed."  
Now you seemed to get it, since you kept looking somewhere else so much I wasn’t sure if you’d look at me again for a second. When you looked around I noticed a plastic thing in your ear. You bit your lip and I tried not to raise a brow to that.  
"I can sleep on the couch." you said. Now that I understood the reason behind the way you spoke.  
"No. I’ll sleep there. I want you to always sleep on my bed. I won’t even be always spending the night here, anyway." I said, and crossed my arms "But I want to sleep on my bed at times, do you understand what I’m saying?"  
"I understand, Mister Logan,"  
"You can call me Logan." I told you "In fact, I prefer it."  
You nodded and took out another paper to start talking about less interesting things.  
"Well, I’ve made a monthly plan for all the housework I’ll do and I think I’ve taken it all into account, but you can tell me of other things that you may want. I was thinking, since today is Saturday, I could start by washing the dish-"  
"You want to start today?" I asked as you handed me a copy of that plan.  
There was silence for seconds.  
"Yes, that’s what I was thinking."  
"Alright" I said, as you were trying to explain yourself further "No, it’s fine."  
"Look, I’m sure your plan is great, if not I’ll tell you later" I said as I let it fall on the table. "But right now I just want to get to other things."  
The whole plan thing honestly didn’t matter to me in that moment, and I was interested in why you were rushing to start working.  
"Just tell me about yourself." I said.  
You looked around for a moment. "Um… I’m twenty-three, I’ve done housework for a long time before, I have translated from or to Romanian as a job a couple of times, I won’t be too much of a nuisance, I go out sometimes and don’t smoke or drink... It doesn’t bother me if you smoke."  
I crossed my arms at the last part, which made your face red. I knew that place smelled very strongly of tobacco.  
"I both drink and smoke." I told you, thinking it would bother you regardless of what you said.  
"Most people I know smoke" you told me "I’m used to it."  
We discussed payment afterward, and although I wanted to know about whether you had no place to stay at all that night, it felt wrong to ask about it too soon, and I figured we’d get to talk about it at some point, so I simply asked you to go get your stuff and whether you’d start working right after you came back.  
"Oh, yes, and about that… can I bring my books in here?"  
"Yeah, bring whatever." I said, and got up.  
"I guess I should get going." you said, already getting up "Well, it was nice meeting you, Logan, you seem like a nice man."  
As I stood up, I looked away after your ‘nice man’ comment, and tried to warn you "Don’t expect too much from me."  
It wasn’t that hard for me to keep my attitude easy for those minutes, but I knew I wouldn’t always be like that.

When you came back, I noticed most of your boxes were full of just clothes, but there was also a notebook and pens, and I could smell a small collection of perfumes somewhere. Another box with books. One of the books I recognized was a copy of _Watchmen_. In order to remember what I read from it, I picked it up and flipped through the pages.  
"Do you like this more?" you said as you came out of the bathroom with different clothes on. It was a less-costumey version of a Halloween French maid dress: A black dress, white collar and white apron with lace on the straps. You still covered your legs with thick black tights, but the dress was short enough to let me see their shape. I hadn’t realized I didn’t reply until you spoke again.  
"I made it myself."  
"I like it, but we’re close to summer" I said "Aren’t the tights too much?"  
You looked down to look at your legs "A bit, but it’s part of it… I have a knee-length dress and some other longer ones, I would wear those without tights."  
I put the book down on the bed and looked at you.  
"Cut all your dresses as short as this one and wear the tights when it’s cold. The work will make you need less warmth anyway."  
You took your collar with your fingers "I need to fix the hems once I cut them and I don’t have a way of having my sewing stuff here." you said "And besides, I prefer not to do that."  
"I’ll give you space for those things. You can use the room here, it’s basically empty." I told you, pointing at the room beside the bathroom and in front of the bedroom. "In fact, you can have all your stuff in there."  
Just after I was done talking, I handed you _Watchmen_.  
"I can bring my sewing machine here?" you asked me, taking the book and bringing it to your chest as you kept talking "Thank you so much, I do have a lot of stuff, I wouldn’t have known how to get it all in this room."  
"You can thank me by taking off the tights and all I said." There were seconds of silence after I said this.  
"Alright" You handed the book back to me and went inside the bathroom again.  
"I gotta say, I wouldn’t have expected you to read stuff like this." I said when I couldn’t see you anymore.  
"I think it’s a great book." I heard from inside "It’s just very well written and… I kinda have a crush on Edward Blake, after all."  
"The Comedian?" I flipped through the pages again to make sure it was who you were referring to.  
Silence.  
"He’s a horrible guy."  
"Yeah." you said, and I heard you sigh "But you know, there’s something about his personality. Maybe him being so reckless and confident, kind of… arrogant, that makes him not as bad."  
I couldn’t help but give a short laugh "He’s a fucking rapist."  
You probably decided not to judge my language out loud "Well, kinda. But Sally loved him anyway, there must have been some reason. I’m not saying it makes it okay, but I just have a thing for him. Besides, haven’t you also done things before that are just plain wrong?"  
Maybe that’s why I hated Blake especially.  
You came out without me replying, and I looked at your legs before anything else.  
"Nice." I said "Doesn’t it feel better?"  
Your hand smoothed out the fabric over your legs. "It does, in a way."

"Well, I think I’ll start washing the dishes now." you said.  
As I walked towards the bedroom, I heard your voice again.  
"Logan." You called.  
"Mm?"  
There was some silence and I heard you sigh "Sorry about that comment." you said without turning around.  
"Which one?"  
"About you having done bad things." then you turned to look at me "That… I had no reason to assume it."  
Having thought of answering with ‘You were right anyway’, I kept it to myself, thinking you’d rather not know, at least not too soon.  
"It’s whatever."

Giving you some space finally, I went to the bed that soon I wouldn’t sleep in. Although I had nothing against you, it was tiring to be around people for too long, even if just one. The sound of water running in the kitchen made me go back to the sleep that was interrupted when you first arrived. At some point, the sound stopped. After some minutes, and thinking I might have been paranoid about it, I walked out of the room to find I was somewhat right. You were spread on the kitchen floor, and I kneeled to touch your arm and make sure it was just sleep.  
"Hm?" I heard as you opened your eyes.  
"You fell asleep" I told you "I think."  
"Oh, yeah" you said, and rubbed your face with your fist "I was dreaming about my tights tearing."  
"Huh" I simply said, and helped you get up after you rolled face down and took my hand. You took the edge of the kitchen countertop for balance.  
"You can take off your heels if you want." they were thick and short, but I imagined that it made a difference to not have them on anyway.  
"No, it’s alright." you told me and turned to look at the sink. There wasn’t much left to be washed.  
"Just take a nap." I said "It’s still morning, you have time for it all, I’m sure."  
You took your wrist with your other hand "Yes, Logan."

When I figured you were done, I went out of the bedroom again and saw the sink clear and the dishes organized and shining on the drying rack. You were sleeping on the couch with an arm over your eyes, maybe to cover it from the light. Your heels were still on, but your feet were on the air since the couch wasn’t big enough, and your apron was folded on the countertop.

"Nothing like a fresh start, right?" I asked after you woke up by yourself.  
While you lifted yourself enough to sit, you looked at me from the couch.  
"What do you mean?"  
"Well, one day you’re suddenly living with some guy you just met." I sat on the countertop and you frowned, probably at that.  
You took a deep breath "I should get cooking, it’s not too far from midday. Do you have any allergies?"  
"No" I told you "Why?"  
"Well, you don’t have much to work with here so I figured I’d get some stuff myself." you said as you got up and straightened your dress.  
"You know, I’m still sleepy even though I slept well last night." you told me "I also noticed you don’t have a coffee maker."  
"It’s not my drink of preference" I said.  
"Yeah, your fridge’s content gives it away."  
That was the last thing you told me before you left but I noticed a smile just before you closed the door.

I kept drinking until you were back. I had to enjoy my time alone for what it was. Since the stuff you brought was new to me, I browsed through it. One of your bags had cosmetics, and I looked through the pencils, mascara and rouge to find a body lotion I recognized as the one you had been wearing. After that, I went through everything else you had, and although I considered myself someone who wasn’t too concerned with other’s business, it kept me drinking there until you were back. I had put it all in the spare room to have an excuse in case you noticed someone had been rummaging. When I started noticing the sweet scent of that lotion again, I went to the living room and acted like I had been there all along.  
"Hey." you said just that when you walked through the door with just a few small bags and a paper cup with coffee.  
"Had fun?" you asked before I could think of something better than ‘hi’ to reply with. I thought for a second you knew about me looking through your boxes, then I remembered you commented on the drinking just before you left.  
"Uh, yes, actually." I told you "So, how did you get money for that?"  
"My parents gave me some." you said, and sipped coffee "Before they realized I’d start living with a man I wasn’t married to."  
"Huh, I never looked at it that way." I said to myself, you probably weren’t able to hear it, since you didn’t reply to it. After tossing the empty paper cup and looking at me, you spoke.  
"So the plan was to wash dishes, tidy all rooms and cook today. There isn’t much of a mess in any room so I’ll just organize my stuff and get it to the other room, is that alright?"  
"Yeah, I already moved your stuff to the other room, actually."  
You turned to look at me.  
"Oh" you said and started taking stuff out of the bags "Well, thanks. I’ll take care of that later, then."

After you were done with apparently everything you had to do for that day, you just went to the room that was empty before to get your stuff out of the boxes. I didn’t have anything to do, and although it was too soon to trust you with the house alone since I didn’t know you much, my need to drink surrounded by people I didn’t know was too strong. There was no sound after I knocked on the door to tell you I was leaving. This made me open the door and see you asleep on the floor again. A part of me did think it was weird, but I just decided to pick you up and leave you on the bed. I left a note on the floor since I imagined you were quick to get freaked out.

_Day 2_  
In the morning, before the sun could rise, the bedroom door opened and you looked at me. I had been awake for a while, so I probably looked like I was waiting for you to wake up. I was lying down on the couch and the first thing I could see was the hallway.  
"I didn’t fall asleep on your bed." you just said.  
"You say it like I didn’t know." I realized after talking that my arms were crossed.  
You breathed in and looked away "I mean no disrespect, and I’m so grateful you let me stay here" you said "But I think it’s better not to be… touched while I’m asleep."  
It was the comment I least expected. Only a few times before had I been told I was being close to someone too soon.  
"Guess I didn’t think of that." I said, and then uncrossed my arms "Alright. But you can be sure I didn’t do anything other than carry you."  
"I believe you" you said "I just don’t feel comfortable with the idea right now."  
I did doubt your willingness to believe me.  
"I mean it, I wouldn’t risk losing the only woman interested in the job." I said "You know for how long that sign had been there?"  
"No" you replied, raising your brows.  
"Neither do I" I said "Long enough I even forgot it was there."  
You smiled, sadly you probably expected me to smile back.  
"So why did no one else show up?"  
I didn’t know how to answer, so I kept silent for seconds. For starters, I didn’t actually know. It was likely that the neighborhood knew I was a mutant, but since no one had ever told me anything related to it, I couldn’t assume. Usually people just avoided my gaze or stared. Some women even clutched at their purses like I was about to take them. I couldn’t tell this to you, so I made up whatever seemed realistic "Most maids wouldn’t want to work for a guy that drinks and smokes too much. And I guess I have that reputation."  
You sat on the armrest.  
"I have to admit" you told me "When I woke up I thought you’d gone out to drink, but you seem pretty sober."  
My hands were behind my head, probably showing you my hairy armpits. Of course I wasn’t about to tell you that I had been drinking but by the time I went back to the apartment I was sober again. Since I didn’t reply, you got up again and left, I guessed it was to go back to sleep.

When I woke up again you had just come out of the shower. I only knew because your hair was up in a towel the way women always wrap it. I could see you just for a second when you were walking from the bedroom towards the room with all your stuff. Both your towel and bathrobe were light pink, a color that I’d eventually learn to associate with you. When you were done getting dressed, you went out to the bedroom for something, and left the door open after going to back to your room. You started putting on makeup. I stared from the hallway like I was watching a movie, just for how foreign it felt. A person in front of me, sitting on the floor with a mirror standing and facing towards them, in silence, not even rushing. Even me looking at someone for minutes, not doing anything in particular, felt somewhat alien. When you were done, you took a hair dryer and took out the plastic piece in your right ear.  
"Logan." you said, and I realized you had noticed me with the mirror. You turned your head to look at me.  
"Huh." I just said and started walking elsewhere. Although you probably didn’t even get to hear that, it was hard to think of appropriate reactions to things that were unfamiliar, and there were a couple of those even if I had been living for a long time.

You came out some minutes later, with redder cheeks. Still, you didn’t let me see your hair let down, it was now two braids. Then I noticed your dress was longer than the day before.  
"You know, I don’t think it’s necessary to wear your uniform on the weekends." I told you, and you replied as you looked inside of the fridge and the cupboard, to find just the stuff you’d bought before and dark green bottles taking the rest of the space.  
"Don’t worry, I’ll cut them all shorter today." you said, taking things out to start cooking. That told me you knew what I really wanted.  
"You’ll have to show me some of your other clothes at some point."  
"I guess I’ll do, but I prefer the uniform when I’m working."  
I kept myself from asking, but I wondered whether it was because you wanted onlookers (or yourself) to know you were there for work.  
"And your hair?" I asked "I told you to let it down sometime."  
"Maybe when I go out." I knew you were just trying to make me leave the subject with that, so I kept on going while you didn’t look at me, being busy with the kitchen stuff.  
"In that case why don’t I take you out for lunch today?"  
I’m not sure I even particularly wanted to see you with your hair down and different clothes, but I guessed there was something satisfying about convincing you to do something you were mildly reluctant to do. And in any case cooking three times a day was probably tiring on top of everything else.  
"Well, I’m not opposed to that" you told me after you turned around to look at me.  
After this, you went to make your bed while the pans were heating. I took several cans of beer with me to the living room while you weren’t there, maybe to avoid any looks from you. When you came back I was already sitting and drinking, but your gaze didn’t even go near me, you went directly towards the stove. Perhaps I was trying to annoy you, but I put the can down and took out a cigar from its box. As if you could smell it before it was even lit, you stopped doing whatever you were doing and walked towards the living room to open its window. After this, I got up told you I’d be leaving and come back in some hours.  
"You don’t want to have breakfast?"  
"I can do without it."  
I guess in a way I wanted an excuse to be alone for longer. Having met you the day before was nice and all, but I preferred to not be constantly near someone. Now that I’ve thought about it more, I recognize that I’d rather be surrounded by people I’m not close to. I like to think I’m more self-aware than people give me credit for. In any case I was actually doing you a favor by not smoking near you.

When I came back, you were in your room. Now there was a table, and over it a sewing machine and rolls of fabric and thread on the floor. Your uniform dresses were hanging from the chair beside the small table. After noticing me going inside the room, you turned around.  
"Hey" you said  
"You’ve made them shorter already?" I asked. Sitting down, you started to fix the thread in the sewing machine.  
"No, I only got to get these things in here." You said, then looked at me "Thanks again for the space."  
"It’s nothing. I don’t need as much as you do." I recognized how my words could have been taken almost as soon as I finished talking.  
"I guess that’s true." you told me and turned your back to me again, working on the machine. At the time the first word to come to mind when I thought of you was ‘high maintenance’. I also imagined what words you associated with me. ‘Rude’ was probably there somewhere. I started walking out and you spoke.  
"Logan." you faced me to say.  
"Hm?"  
"I didn’t mean to imply you couldn’t smoke here." you said "Sorry for that."  
"No, don’t worry about it" I said "I shouldn’t expose you to that."

While you washed the dishes, I went back to my bedroom and kept drinking. I spent an hour or so sitting on the bed until you walked in. You had changed clothes. It was a light pink dress, long but showed cleavage with the top part making a heart-shape over your breasts. Your makeup stayed the same but your hair was mostly down, wavy because of the braids from before.  
"Are we, um… going out?" you asked.  
"Ah, yeah." I told you. I got up to take my wallet and jacket, thinking you would need it. As we walked out of the complex, I glanced a couple of times to notice how your breasts bounced slightly as you went down the stairs with me.  
When we arrived to the parking lot, I walked towards the driver’s side, and turned around to find you behind me.  
"’I’ll be driving." I told you.

You didn’t know where I was driving us, so I just went to a place near one of the bars I spent the most time in. I saw white and blue tablecloths.  
"So you like Greek food?" you asked after we had a table.  
"I don’t know. I just thought you’d like it."  
That was a lie, obviously.  
"I kind of do." you said and looked around.  
"This is a cute place" you said "Plants everywhere."  
"So what do you work as?" you asked after ordering, a bit louder than you talked before. Since we arrived, many more people had gotten tables near us, and I guessed the background noise made it harder for you to hear.  
"That’s kind of complicated" I said. Before I could go on, you turned your left ear towards me and pointed to it. I imagined you meant you heard better from that one, so I got closer to it to speak.  
"I’m usually a mailman"  
"Usually?" you asked, looking at me for the explanation.  
"I’ve gotten to do stunts a couple of times."  
You pushed your glass further from you to get your hands on the table "Wow, really? movie stunts?"  
"Not big screen, no." I told you.  
"So you fight?"  
I put my bottle down. "Yeah, I guess I’m good at being violent."  
I didn’t think you got my somewhat sarcastic tone from that, so I just kept talking.  
"But I also do other stuff people consider dangerous, like being near fire, jumping off high places, and such." I was showing off at that point, but I stopped, realizing my usual job wasn’t glamorous enough to boast about.  
"I don’t like violent stuff much." you said.  
"That’s great’’ I told you "Violence is nothing to admire, really."  
Then I wasn’t sure you got that I wasn’t sarcastic at all this time. I didn’t bother to make it clear. I did, in a way, understand some finding violence revolting, but I also understood that these ways of thinking most likely came from places where violence was almost never necessary, so your image might have come from thinking it was just a stupid way to escalate small problems. You didn’t talk again, until I did.  
"So you were born here? Your parents are Romanian?"  
"I was born in Los Angeles, then my parents moved here." you told me, about to finish your plate. I had been much faster "And yes, they are Romanian."  
I made silence, unsure of what to say after that.  
"Are your parents both American?" you asked.  
It made me silent for some seconds, but then I knew what to say.  
"I’m actually Canadian."  
"Oh" you said "So you just… ended up here."  
You smiled after saying that. I didn’t reply and just kept drinking.  
"We should go to a Greek history museum sometime" you told me.

As soon as we were back home, you went into your room, I guessed it was to start cutting your dresses. Later you got out, holding a trash bag, and found me outside of the apartment, smoking.  
"Why don’t you wait a few hours until it’s full to take out the trash?" I asked.  
"I understand why you think that" you told me, and put the bag on the floor "I’m not very superstitious, but it’s kind of a thing that we just don’t take out the trash after dark. My family isn’t either, but we’d rather be on the safe side, you know."  
I felt one of the sides of my mouth form a half-smile "Yeah, I get it."  
You probably thought I was judging you, but it was a weird feeling to smile in front of someone.

When it seemed you were done with sewing, you got out of your room to the kitchen. I was then inside.  
"I’m leaving tonight again’’ I said ‘’Don’t worry about dinner for me."  
"Are you sure?" you asked.  
"Yeah" was the last thing I said before closing the door behind me.

My life was so different then, and the general feeling of everything was so weird to me. Especially since you arrived. I expected this since I asked for a maid, but it was hard for me to keep up with both domestic stuff and work, and I have to admit that being lonesome is different from being lonely. In the last two days you had been holding a mirror up to me, without knowing. I was living with someone who grew up and had lived all her life in a very human way. Not that I was jealous. I wasn’t ashamed of being who I was, at all. My issue was that, as attracted as I felt to you, I couldn’t get past the thought that your prejudice would make you disgusted at me if you ever found out I wasn’t fully human. Not in the way you knew humans to be like, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently Romania is one of the countries with the highest percentage of smokers and drinkers.


	2. Innocent And Vain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s a lot of stuff that goes into researching diseases or conditions, or legal stuff in certain countries or states, and sometimes there’s information that you won’t be able to find even with how useful the internet tends to be, so you just have to assume how things would be and hope that whoever has first hand experience doesn’t think it’s too badly represented.

_Day 3_

The smell of anyone was different when they were scared. You were no exception, and when I noticed this change from a distance, I went early in the morning to the bedroom to check on you. Tears fell from your open eyes, which made me think you were awake, but you didn’t turn to look at me. Being mostly sure you turned off or took out your hearing aids while sleeping, I didn’t bother to call your name to wake you up. I only touched your arm. It was uncovered since it was too hot to have all your body surrounded by blankets. There was still no reaction. I heard you breathing, but I couldn’t understand what happened, so I just sat down on the floor and waited for some minutes. Eventually you stopped crying, and started blinking, only to close your eyes. Then you moved around during the next few minutes like people usually did while sleeping, so I left the room and went to sleep.

 

It was the smell of you making breakfast what got me up before the alarm. Not feeling like talking at all, and not even remembering what had happened earlier, I waited until you went into the shower to eat from the plate you left for me. Just after you came out of the shower, but before wrapping a towel over your very long hair, you spoke to me.

“Logan.” You called as you patted your hair with the towel. The accent was stronger than before. I guessed it was either the fact you didn’t put on the aids to shower or the fact it was morning.

“Yes?”

You sighed.

“I think I’m becoming a witch. I’m having visions of some sort.” You said.

I first thought I had misunderstood your words because of your pronunciation. “What?”

“It was horrible, seriously, you’ve no idea how scary that was. As I was falling asleep I saw the bedroom, but there were faces everywhere, barely human.”

Then I recognized that you were talking about what I saw earlier, and I felt my expression get more serious.

“No’’ I told you “Those must have been hallucinations.”

“I’m serious.” you insisted, gesturing as you kept talking “There were people in dark cloaks, then there was a werewolf in the room, sitting, looking at me. I couldn’t move my eyes but I saw him from the corner of my eyes.”

I crossed my arms.

“I saw you hallucinate” I told you “And then I sat down on the floor to wait until you fell asleep.”

You looked at your left side.

“Oh.” you said and then laughed for a second “I saw you as a werewolf I guess.”

That part did make me think for a moment that maybe you did have some sort of clairvoyant power, but it made much more sense that you were just hallucinating. Then I realized that associating me with a wolf wasn’t that difficult.

“It must be the hair” I said.

You laughed slightly again. Was it flirting? I had said that in a serious tone, but maybe you’d found some humor in there.

 

Putting on makeup took you longer than the day before, and it was also a bit heavier than the previous days. Now I could tell you wore eyeshadow. I saw it after brushing my teeth and putting on my uniform. I also saw, as I expected, that your dress was short. Shorter than maybe even the one you wanted to wear tights with the first day. It let me see your legs almost completely. The long hair was all up again, this time it was a long ponytail with a bow.

 

It was interesting to me that you had spent more time in your appearance when I would spend most of the time at work. As I went to work I thought that maybe you had a boyfriend who would come over while I was gone. After all, I never asked if you were single. However, it seemed to me that you were flirting with me since the second day, maybe not realizing you were. Maybe it was for the sake of looking at yourself in a very feminine way, since you might have thought your voice was deep or not feminine enough. This was on my mind while I was at work, and every time I delivered to a woman I thought of it. Some even looked like you, but when I saw them I thought that they’d look better if they did look even more like you.

 

I arrived to the complex’s parking lot perfectly sober, but before going back into the apartment I wanted to drink. I was at the bar for long enough that I had time to even think of how I felt, to my own surprise. I was thinking about your body. I had no reason to trust a human woman that had no idea who I was, but lust was a different thing. And in general I didn’t particularly feel affection for humans as a whole.

 

It might have been the speed I had drank with that evening compared to other times, because even after the time it took to walk back to the apartment I was still somewhat drunk.

“Hi” you said when I arrived “I ate dinner without you, I hope you don’t m-”

“No, it’s cool.” I told you, then I sat on the couch.

“You know… You look cute, in a way.”

You took the collar of your uniform and straightened your dress to cover you more.

“Um, thanks.” you said, and waited some seconds before you kept talking “Well, I need to tell you about something.”

“Oh, yeah?” I stood up again and went to the table on the kitchen.

You started putting food on a plate as you talked “What we talked about this morning. I think I should go to the doctor.”

“I don’t get it.” I said before starting to eat.

“You know how the first day I fell asleep suddenly?” you took the seat in front of me.

“M-hm”

“It’s been happening while you’re not here too.” you said “And then the weird thing as I was falling asleep again before morning.”

My drunkenness had worn off completely by that moment.

“I see.” I could just say “You think it’s a disease?”

“I just know I wasn’t like this before.”

“Well, yeah, you should go see a doctor.” I told you “I really think it’s just that you’re still not used to living here, though.”

 

After I was done eating, I went into the bedroom to take off my uniform, and found most of my clothes folded on top of a box in the closet. I guessed the only ones you didn’t fold were the ones that wrinkled. When I was done changing I walked to the living room and found you asleep on the couch. Was it that I didn’t think a visit to a doctor was urgent if you worked well anyway? Or maybe it was the fact I had never had to face anything like that. I don’t like to think I lack empathy, so I tried to imagine what it was like to have a disease. I took a cigar but didn’t think of waking you up by smoking it there, so I went outside again.

 

“So you think I’m cute?” was the first thing I heard when I came back.

“I guess” I replied. You wanted me to respond to the flirting, I thought, but I wasn’t ready for that.

Me wanting you to wear revealing clothes was probably what gave you the idea I’d be interested romantically, but things weren’t that simple. I could see your face getting redder from embarrassment, but I didn’t care enough to say something to make you blush more, so I just stopped talking and started drinking as you did more housework.

 

At night I acted like I wasn’t looking at your body. You wore shorts and a small tank top to bed, and went to the living room for something. I’m still not sure why, but I preferred not to respond to your flirting (or what seemed like flirting to me) but still demand provocative stuff from you. Maybe I didn’t want you to want it. Or wanted you to act like you didn’t. Now that I’ve thought about it I think, though, it might have been that I didn’t want you to think I was interested in anything too emotional. It was mainly acting for myself. I admit, I did look at you whenever you walked past me, with whatever you wore that showed much. You were right (if that’s what you got from my stares): I wanted to touch your legs. Later I remembered the weather was getting warmer, and your clothes were appropriate. But I still thought you wanted me to look.

 

_Day 4_

Something about the next morning didn’t let me feel like the night before had given me rest. You were in your room when I woke up, door closed, and the breakfast was on the table. This time there was a small vase with a single flower beside it.

“Who gave you this?” I pointed at it when you were back.

You replied as you touched the front hair your braids didn’t hold “The milkman”

For a second I could only think you were serious, against all odds, but only raising your brows told me otherwise. Your tone was difficult to interpret, and I understood it was likely because you weren’t able to hear yourself the way I heard you.

“The milkman.” I repeated.

You took a sponge from the sink and started cleaning the stovetop. I wasn’t finished.

“If you have a boyfriend, I think I should know.”

This made you turn around and look at me. You only replied after you turned back and kept cleaning. “You should?”

“Usually people know that if someone works for them.” I said “It’s good to know.”

You left one of the grates on top of the stove.

“I’m single.” you said without looking at me “A man gifted me the flower when I went out for groceries yesterday.”

“Who was it?” I asked, just before realizing how I looked.

“I didn’t know him.” he said “He just gave it to me.”

Then I saw I was supporting my hand on the table “Alright” I said, before leaving to put on my uniform.

 

When I came back from work, dinner was on the table and I had spent the last hours thinking of why I was so concerned with the flower and its origin. It was hard for me to picture someone on the street giving me something just because. I was looking for a way to tell you this in case you hadn’t felt like telling me the truth when you said that, although I didn’t think you had much reason to lie.

“So you just get stuff gifted to you while on the street?” I asked after eating. There were a couple of seconds before you answered, still looking at me. I guessed you were making sure you’d heard well.

“Of course not” you told me “It was the first time it happened.”

As irrational as it was, I had been slowly lowering my voice since I had arrived, and this was conscious.

“Maybe if I was some cute woman I’d have men cleaning my apartment for free.”

“What?” you turned to look at me while asking. I was already on the couch.

“Nothing.” my voice went back to the usual volume after I was forced to repeat the words in my head. You kept staring.

“You said something about if you were a woman.” you told me.

It could have been shamelessness that made me silent.

“Have you ever been cursed at while you were walking down the street?”

That was unexpected. You simply assumed what I had said, and I had thought of you as sensitive for reacting to a small comment defending yourself.

“I didn’t know you had an issue with swearing.” I said, surprising myself by being the innocent one this time. It was the smart-seeming way of replying to someone when you didn’t know what they were talking about. I guessed you’d heard that perfectly, since you went to your room without saying anything.

 

It was the bedroom door that opened when I next saw you, so you must have gone to sleep while I went out to drink. You did nothing other than walk towards the sink with dirty dishes and only looked at me for a fraction of a second. It was enough for me to see redness in your eyes.

“You really cried because of that?” I thought my tone had been neutral, but maybe the words themselves were wrong, because you kept washing dishes and again only looked at me for a moment. That was before you turned off the faucet and spoke.

“You don’t just point out to people that they cried.” you said, and I heard the sound of a plate being left on the sink. “Just like you don’t tell them their clothes stink of tobacco.”

That reply told me you’d misunderstood me. My wording was bad but I didn’t think it was funny. I hated seeing women cry, at least the ones I liked, and wanting you to know that was enough to make me swallow my pride.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” I said, never having thought before that I’d say it over something so minor.

There were a few seconds of silence before you replied. For some moments I thought you wouldn’t.

“It’s okay.” your voice was softer than before. The only reason I thought you weren’t faking that was because you probably didn’t hear yourself well enough to control that. Or maybe you did, I couldn’t know those things.

Not wanting to end the conversation like that, I tried to get to other things that I imagined wouldn’t be as difficult for you to talk about.

“So you went to the doctor?”

At the time I didn’t think there was anything wrong with you, and that you being constantly sleepy was just being tired from working and getting to a new place.

“Yes” you said, and made a pause that already was telling me I’d been wrong. You turned off the faucet again and dried your hands before turning around “She said we still need to make more tests, but it’s possible I have narcolepsy.”

I tried adjusting to this idea as I took a cigar only to have it between my fingers. You didn’t comment on it this time, but there was no need at that point.

“Today was really just some questions, but she said the other tests would be about three thousand dollars for both.”

I acted like I was expecting it, by forcing my brows together when I wanted to raise them.

“Oh.”

This made me think of all the times I wouldn’t have needed so much money for something like that. I didn’t think of myself as lucky, but I was starting to notice the way you living with me made me realize how separated I was from most humans, even if I put on a uniform every morning. I’d face things you would never, and you faced things I didn’t even think about.

“I’m sorry” I said, as I realized you’d been looking at me “I guess you can’t afford that.”

“Not for a few months at least.” you said “Logan, I know you don’t get paid like a CEO, but I think you understand why I really would want… to earn more.“

I looked at the cigar, avoiding your gaze. Before I was able to answer, you spoke again.  
“I’ll do other things that you may want.”

“Like what?” I said as a knee-jerk reaction, but immediately kept on going “No, wait, it isn’t that. Listen, of course I’ll give you more, as much as I have and don’t need, but you’ll probably still have to wait a month or so for the tests.”

I wasn’t lying. I almost never needed extra money for anything other than cigars and drinks. But I have to admit I didn’t even think of giving up those things for some weeks for your sake, at that point such a thought would have surprised me coming from myself. And again, I didn’t feel affection for you exactly, it was just ethics.

“Thank you so much.” you said in a lower tone, and showed me a smile, then looked at the floor. After this, you took off your gloves. “So, what were the extra things I could do?”

I thought of things that would be acceptable to ask from you, but since there was nothing in my mind I simply decided to give myself time.

“I think I’d rather tell you whenever I’d want something like that.”

“Alright” was the last thing I heard before I went outside to smoke and to mentally pat myself in the back.


	3. Nobody's Playing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will start using the (y/n) system as opposed to having the reader have a particular name. I strongly suggest you get a Chrome extension that changes that to your name if you use that browser, since it does look a bit awkward written raw like that. I use Word Replacer II.

Day 5  
This time it was different. Your fear made me awake again, with its bitter smell. Before I went into the bedroom I could hear you struggling for breath. There were moments in which you could only try to get air in your lungs as you stared at the ceiling. I started to press numbers on the phone, since I didn’t know what else to do. Not taking my gaze away from you, I started to walk towards you and at some point I was touching your shoulder. By that moment you’d started breathing normally. My hand left you when you turned around and let the wall support you by stretching your arm on it. I knew better than to expect a ‘thank you’ for doing nothing, so I walked out of the room as I cleared the call I was about to make. Then I went to the kitchen and got beer from the fridge. As soon as I was done with that bottle you went out of the bedroom.  
“I can’t go back to sleep.” you said. This told me to take another bottle and keep drinking.  
“Stressed?” you sat down on the dinner table chair after I asked that.  
“I don’t know” you replied “It’s only happened a few times before.”  
I had the opportunity to ask something I had wanted to for days. After drinking more, I did.  
“Maybe you’d feel safer if you didn’t sleep alone.”  
You touched your ear like you hadn’t heard well. Maybe you hadn’t.  
“You said you want to sleep with me?”  
“I think it’s better for you too.” I said, louder this time. A part of me, I guessed, either wanted to act shameless or really was.  
“Logan.” you just said. Since you frowned, I knew I could have done it differently.  
“I mean just sleeping. We don’t have to touch.”  
You waited until I put the bottle down to reply “No.”  
I imagined later that in general your sleep was bad. This time I even went back to the couch before I saw you go to the bedroom.  
For the sake of not looking like I was too bothered, I decided not to ask for a reason. It was difficult, but I was even able to not mention it in the morning and throughout the rest of the day. I was, however, thinking of a way to convince you. I wouldn’t do this normally as I do respect when a woman says no, but I felt the reason you did was because you thought I’d see you as ‘easy’ then. The other possible reason being that maybe you didn’t trust me. I hadn’t fully finished trusting you either, but I didn’t need to in order to sleep together.

And that night, again, I tried to act like I’d had no issue with your decision. I convinced myself I was doing a job so good you were probably wondering why I hadn’t asked about it all day. At least that’s the way I explained to myself that you were silent during dinner, but kept looking at me. You wanted it.  
“So how have you been doing?” I asked later “With sleep and all that.”  
I wasn’t sure whether it was to be closer to you or to seem that way.  
“Well” you started “It’s really not that different from before. I still fall asleep without meaning to. And you know I have issues sleeping enough at night.”  
Those were more words than I expected, proving my point even more.

As soon as we had both gotten up, I waited until you started walking towards your room to touch your shoulder as I told you “You work hard, thanks.”  
It was just what I thought of first. I had done it as an excuse to touch your shoulder and make you comfortable with the idea of physical contact.

Day 6  
I made a point to not do anything particularly nice in the morning. It would’ve given you the idea that I wasn’t even trying to hide how much I wanted to bed you. Although I did look at your body when you walked out of the shower with only a small towel barely covering you, I knew you expected it from me.

Something that I didn’t expect from you was to hear you warning me about something. When you came out of your room, dressed, I was close to leaving. You told me not to get in trouble. I didn’t think of it enough to ask you what you meant, and I’d heard it before as something like ‘take care’. But it made sense later.

Specifically, it made sense after I left work. Once I was out I needed to drink. Maybe it was your rejection which made me need it and not just feel like it. I went to the first bar that took me away from the nicer suburban places I had been too used to. It wasn’t the night yet, but the inside of that place left almost no evidence of outside light. There was a painting of a bull on the wall. I reminded myself that I had feelings, and that I felt discomfort being around others. Most importantly, that this discomfort was kind of pleasant sometimes. Surrounded, but still alone, I stared at the giant stuffed gorilla sitting at a table until I asked for beer. I noticed a man arriving, and the red lighting of the place together with the bull told me I wanted to fight him. Although I was somewhat looking for reasons to do it, I knew it was ridiculous and I needed to wait until I had a reason. I took out a cigar and started smoking, all of this while looking at him. He was blond, and wore a shirt buttoned all the way up. He stared too, so he clearly knew that looking away would have been a submissive gesture. I needed it to go faster, so I was the first one to ask what the fuck he was looking at. I think I just have something against blonds.  
“I can tell you’re not from here” he replied and smiled “and you’re gonna have a hard time if that’s how you talk to people, buddy.”  
“And I can tell you’re gonna have a hard time in general, bub.”  
Then he stood up, and I decided to give him another chance by not doing it too, since an unavoidable comment on my height was the only thing I needed now that I was so determined to punch him.  
“Nothing to show?” he said “Hey, how does that saying go about stones and glass houses?” he asked this to everyone around him, loud.  
I exhaled smoke but I knew I wasn’t going to calm down. The red lights pointed at him and I knew I wanted to do it. Maybe it was sexual frustration that made me take a fast decision, but I stood up and made his face meet the counter so quick that I didn’t even think he had time to notice how short I was.  
“I don’t know” I said “Don’t think I’ve heard it.”  
There was something unfair, I recognized, about this, so I let go of his neck to let him defend himself. He took this opportunity to seem like he was about to leave by taking a few steps back, but I knew he was really about to straight-up kick me in the face, and at this point I knew all eyes were on me. His shoes were strong and it probably seemed dirty to onlookers, but I looked young enough for them not to say much. It only made me angrier to want to prove myself, and I took him to throw him to the floor. ‘Violence is nothing to admire’, yeah, what a big fucking image I was trying to make. He did resist, but soon noticed that I was much heavier than I seemed, and he couldn’t separate my hands from his torso. I let him kick me to the ground as he laid, but I was only avoiding having to stop so soon. Nobody cared enough to stop us except for the bouncer, who was already there before I noticed him coming, and took me by the neck. I didn’t want him to notice it would be unusually hard to drag me anywhere, so I told him I’d leave by myself, and apparently he liked me enough to let me do it. As soon as I was outside, I understood that it had been better for both to have stopped before I did something bad enough to bring too much attention to me.

After that, I carried on my plan to seem nicer to you and went to the flower shop closest to the apartment. Pink seemed like the best color for you, and I ended up with a small bunch of pink and yellow flowers. The woman who worked there talked about how the ‘tulips made it look more casual’. Looking at those, I thought of wanting to touch your breasts, your body spread on the bed, completely exposed and touched by the yellow sunlight. Tied together, I took them with me.  
The first thing I saw from you when I came back was a frown. A confused one rather than an angry one.  
“Wow” you said as your brows raised.  
I didn’t reply, just walked and took your hand to make you take them. You didn’t stop looking at me as you spoke.  
“Thanks, uh, I was actually thinking about having flowers here.” you said “I dreamed about it some hours ago.”  
This image of you being naked didn’t leave me. I wanted you on the bed. Seeing you with the short dress everyday and with only a small towel after the shower was a lot for me. At least I needed to touch you places other than the shoulder.

“So what do you think about that?” you said after some minutes. I was already on the couch.  
“About what?”  
“Having flowers here.”  
I imagined it.  
“It’s fine by me.” I said, then I thought of it more “Doesn’t me smoking kill them?”  
“I was thinking about that” you told me. Nothing else. I understood you just didn’t want to directly tell me to not smoke inside. Of course the whole day for me was focused on trying to make you like me, so I had no option but complying.  
“Plant as many as you want” I said “I won’t smoke inside.”  
I liked being outside anyway.  
“Perfect” you replied and took a tall glass from the kitchen. Then you walked to hand me the flowers. While you filled it with water, I started to look at them from up close and then let you have them again. In those moments your face got close to mine as you took them, your lips looked so soft, but I wouldn’t betray myself by kissing you like I didn’t care what you wanted.

A bigger thing came later that didn’t leave my mind. You’d seen flowers when you fell asleep, like you apparently couldn’t help doing. Maybe it wasn’t just dreams, and you actually got glimpses of the future while asleep. In any case, you being a mutant was unlikely so I didn’t consider this possibility as something too serious, but it became something that I’d keep thinking about for several days.

Day 7  
The difference in the way you treated me in the morning was strong enough for me to notice. The flowers I gave you were still on the table beside breakfast, and you had already showered and changed, so we sat one in front of the other. This time you started the conversation.  
“Do you not like any particular food?” you asked “you never really comment on it.”  
“I guess not” I said and then looked at you, waiting until you noticed before talking more “I just eat whatever.”  
I decided not to say much more to keep you wanting to talk. Maybe you realized this, since I had to wait until I was about to leave for us to speak again, and it was me who started.  
“Be ready when I come back.” I told you “I’m taking you out to dinner.”  
I saw you smile before I left “Sure.”

When I left work I was calm. I did though, have the fight from before still inside my head. It’s not that I regretted it, but I hadn’t considered many things before I did it, and it had been a while since I had done something like that for no reason other than having the urge to. But at that moment my urges were to just touch you more, then go back home and drink and smoke indoors one last time.

The almost ankle-length of your skirt disappointed me when I came back, but your top barely covered more than a bra would, so I refrained from commenting on anything at all. As we started to leave the complex, I took your hand. I didn’t bother asking, since I would be making touch out to be something unnatural. If two people lived together, there had to be some affection, I thought. You looked at me as soon as I did that, but said nothing. I didn’t let go until we got in the car. It was easy to notice you looking at me a couple of times, and sometimes you looked at my arms and not face.  
The place I drove us to was a much higher-class bar. At the time I thought it was just what I felt like doing, but now I think it was likely I did it to ease you slowly into my idea of fun. Music was not too loud, apparently, since you didn’t comment on not being able to hear, not more than a few times. Your accent was stronger.  
“So what other books do you like?” you asked after a while “Aside from uh, Watchmen.”  
While I tried recalling some, I took your hand again. Quickly and as if it were nothing, just casual since it was already on the table.  
“Haven’t read that much, but I’ve kinda liked Frankenstein, Of Mice and Men...” I said “Not much more.”  
“Oh” you said, looking at the hand I was touching.  
“What?” I asked, faking a softer voice. I thought you’d comment on the touching.  
“You like books about people that don’t fit in society and hurt others unintentionally.”  
I looked away as I stroked your dorsum “Yeah.”  
You made silence for some more seconds, still letting me touch you.  
“What about The Metamorphosis?” you asked then “Have you read it?”  
“Don’t think I’ve heard of it, no.”  
That’s when your hand started to get away.  
“It’s set in the Victorian times, kinda.” you told me “My mother told me what it meant, when I was a teen and I read it for the first time. Apparently people used to hide their family members if they were disabled, especially children. It was embarrassing for a family to have someone like that.”  
I looked at you right in the eyes as you paused. Couldn’t reach for your hand again when I realized the topic was getting serious “I’m convinced she only said it so I’d be grateful for the life I had, but she was right anyway. The main character suddenly became different, and no one ever looked at him the same way after that.”  
“Well” I said, having not much else to think of “I guess you know how that feels?”  
“I don’t, actually.” you replied “I was born with difficult hearing already, I just learned to talk, but I knew I didn’t sound like others. Mostly because they said it in different ways.”  
Although what you were telling me wasn’t extremely intimate, it was still weird for me to hear these thoughts from people, especially if I felt they expected me to comfort them or something like that. Rather, because I didn’t know what they expected from me. This is why I kept silent and just stared at your hand, still on the table but further from me.  
“So what about you?” you asked “I don’t want to offend you or anything like that, but sometimes you seem pretty… isolated.”  
“I sure am.” I said, taking the bottle of beer that had been brought to me and drinking from it. You interrupted me by taking it and waiting until I stopped to take it off my hand and pouring it on the glass in front of me.  
“I mean it” you said after this, then left the bottle in front of me “You don’t seem to have any friends, I know nothing about your family.”  
“You wanna know?” I asked, starting to word things as subtly as I could think them “Well, my friends are sorta my family too, but it’s not that easy to always be… there. I don’t always feel we’re on the same page.”  
“I understand.”  
No, you didn’t.  
“You haven’t shown having any friends either.” I told you. I drank from the glass.  
“I do have a few.” you say “Maybe you should meet her.”  
I didn’t feel like it, but decided against showing it in any way, and just kept silent.  
“She’s usually free on saturdays, so we could see her tomorrow.” you kept going.

When we were done, I had forgotten all about last night and the semi-fight. Apparently those were very uncommon there, because a woman seemed to recognize me just from that as we walked to the car. She was a blonde, looked like the guy from before, probably his sister.  
“So you like picking fights?” she said as she got quickly closer to me “You can have one right now.”  
“I pick my battles, I can tell you that much.” I said as I got out of the way and opened my side’s door.  
“What are you talking about?” you asked her.  
“Your boyfriend likes beating innocent men.” she said to you.  
“She’s just making shit up.” I said, getting inside. She probably understood that I could kill her in a matter of a fraction of a second, but also expected me to not do it in public if that’s what she would have thought of me. “Get in, (y/n).”  
She stared at us as we left, but it didn’t end that way.  
“Who was that woman?” you asked.  
“I don’t know her.”  
“Well, you must have known someone who did.” you said, raising your voice slightly. I knew you looked at me but I didn’t “People don’t just approach others like that.”  
“She was drunk.”  
You sighed and your voice got louder again “But why was she telling you that?”  
“She doesn’t matter” I tell you “What are you, jealous?”  
I regretted my words even before you started yelling.  
“Wh- You- That- She wanted to fight you!” you said “And said you fought people!”  
“Okay, you know what?” I was starting to raise my voice too “We’re going to talk about this later. End of discussion.”  
The dominant acting seemed to be effective at convincing you of stuff, but I thought you might have been making silence out of spite for hours.

It was only until close to midnight, when you woke up and again couldn’t sleep, that you came out of the bedroom to talk to me. I was sleeping but it didn’t take much for me to wake up once you were close to me.  
“Logan.” you called.  
“What?”  
“I wanted to say” you paused “That I’m sorry for yelling at you. And thanks for the dinner.”  
“Don’t worry about it” I said, wanting to sleep more “You’re a nice girl.”  
“Thanks” was the last thing I heard before the bedroom door opened and closed. I slept with the realization that although you were being nice to me (and maybe faking it), you were still very far from trusting me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who actually went on to google “shitty dive bar” and ended up finding the stuffed gorilla line on a blog post.


	4. Spring And By Summer Fall

Day 8  
We didn’t have much time for me to explain what had happened last night, so I could think for longer about what I would say. On that day we visited your friend. The dress you wore gave me the idea you wanted to impress her. It was light blue, maybe too complex for me to describe it, but was princess-like and showed so much of your cleavage it surprised me you didn’t tell me to stop staring. There’s also the fact you told me to dress ‘well’, but I didn’t care enough to think beyond black jeans and a button-down shirt. You didn’t say anything about it, but maybe that was because you were rushing.  
While I drove you told me about her. Her name was Elena Capsali. Apparently I needed to brush up on my manners before showing up, because she belonged to one of those rich, uppity families. You told me we would act as if we were married.  
“If she knows I live with a man who’s not even my boyfriend she’s gonna give me some lecture and somewhat force me to stay the night with her.”  
“You say that’s your friend?” I asked. You weren’t about to stay in any place other than mine.  
If you didn’t want to, I mean.  
“She’s nice, just kinda traditional.” you paused after saying this “In… some ways more than others.”

I thought you might have been overdressed until we arrived. It wasn’t a mansion, but a big house that we discovered only after a garden you said was the one of your dreams. It was mostly red and white flowers among green.  
“I want to have my wedding in a place like this.” you said, I’m not sure if to yourself, but I did imagine you wearing a dress just like the one you had on, only white.  
When we pressed the doorbell’s button, you reminded me that for now we actually were supposed to have had a wedding. I guessed she wasn’t observant enough to ask about the rings.  
It didn’t take too long for her to open the door. Her purple dress was similar to yours, and showed just as much of her breasts, which touched yours as she got her face closer to kiss your cheek.  
“I haven’t heard from you in a long time, (y/n).” she said.  
“Elena, this is my husband Logan.” you told her, then to me you said this was Elena, your friend.  
After talking about how much you missed each other and other people I knew nothing about, Elena asked me something directly.  
“So how did you two meet?”  
It seemed she already assumed we were married, which is why I stopped thinking of the whole ring thing.  
“At a bar” I said, knowing you wouldn’t make a quick decision on it “She worked as a bartender.”  
“Huh, that’s a bit unexpected.” she turned to you to say, then to me “But you do look the type.”  
Understanding that you weren’t prepared for more questions that would be answered with lies, I asked something to her.  
“So what about you?” I said “I don’t know much other than your name.”  
My tone might have come off like I was suspicious about something, but she acted like it didn’t anyway.  
“Well, I play the violin, write poetry, I study some languages not unlike your wife.”  
A headache started as she was in the middle of that sentence and ended by the time I started mine.  
“Yeah, we get it, you’re very cultured.” I said, exaggerating my eyebrow-raising like I didn’t care about her impression of me.  
“Logan.” I almost didn’t hear. When I looked to my left you stared at me. I just looked at Elena again. Maybe I was bitter about someone else having a close relationship with you.  
“I’m sorry about that.” I said, looking at the center of her face as to not see her eyes directly.  
“No, I was definitely bragging, I have to admit.” she replied, and took a cigarette out of a packet on the coffee table.  
“Oh” she said, noticing we were both staring at her, probably for different reasons “I forgot to ask you, of course, do you want some tea?”

She took you with her to make it, letting me alone to think about smoking a cigar.  
“You want it with no sugar…?” you started asking from the kitchen “Honey?”  
The word surprised me until I remembered where I was and why.  
“Ah, yeah” I replied “No sugar… babe.”  
A conversation started between you. Although I knew you both trusted I couldn’t hear, I had an excuse to be listening, which was the fact that I pretty much couldn’t help it.  
“Listen” she started “I don’t want to be imprudent, but the last time I heard of you, it seemed you had a boyfriend.”  
I didn’t need to make a note of it, since I was sure I’d have no problem remembering to ask you about it. A little “Um” was all I could hear from you before she went on.  
“Because I heard some awful things about that guy.” she said “That’s not the same man, is it?”  
“No.” you answered quickly “You’re right, he was horrible. But Logan is different.”  
“Is he?” she asked “Because you have a thing for those… overly-masculine types.”  
“He’s been good to me ever since we met.”  
“I believe you” she said “I just want you to know that if you ever need a place to stay, you can be here for as long as you need to.”  
There was silence except for liquid being poured in a cup.  
“Thanks.”

This conversation could have made me harbor hard feelings against both of you, even if in your case you had only defended me. I wondered about that ex boyfriend even if I got that it was, in reality where we weren’t actually married, none of my business.  
She handed me a cup and I rushed to hand you yours, then looked at her. She sighed almost inaudibly.  
“Uh, thanks.” you said. As she reached for the cigarette she’d left on the coffee table, I decided I’d act a particular way with her.  
“I really feel like having a cigar, you know, (y/n)?”  
She had started smoking already when I said this.  
“I actually brought your case with me.” you took my case that was in your purse and handed it to me.  
“Huh.” I said as I took and and opened it.  
“Huh.” I heard Elena repeat. I couldn’t avoid looking at her, maybe hoping to make her uncomfortable, somewhat.

I had cut and lit it when she stood up and said to go outside to her patio. You kept silent but seemed to recognize the tension between all three, because you looked at me and then at her, and this kept going on for minutes. At one point when you looked at me and I saw Elena notice it, I took your hand and rubbed the back with my thumb. When you looked at me it seemed like you were forcing a poker face, which made me think I didn’t know if you really wanted it, so I stopped.  
As she finished her cigarette I spoke to her.  
“You dislike me.”  
I had remembered why I prefer to be alone. People disliked me and I did back. At any given place I go there’s at least a couple of people who visibly have issues with me. Elena wasn’t dangerous, but she annoyed me. It was an irrational feeling and I knew it from the start. She looked at you before changing her position in the chair to look at me. That’s how she replied.  
“Logan.” you said then, breaking the silence “Can we talk for a minute?”  
“Of course” I said and followed you along the stone path. We stopped beside a pond that I stared at as you asked what I knew you’d ask.  
“What’s going on?”  
“What do you mean?” I replied “I’m being your husband.”  
“Well, tone it down, ‘sweetheart’.” you told me “She’s my friend.”  
“If you say so, honey.” I dared to tell you, imagining myself grinning, but being unable to actually do it.  
“Fuck off.” you said, your neck still letting you look at me for a few moments as you walked towards her again. I heard your tone as serious enough to listen to what you said before, but I didn’t make an honest effort. By this I mean that I couldn’t hold myself back from using a mocking tone when apologizing.  
“Please excuse me, Mrs. Capsali.” I said as I sat down, looking at her face but not her eyes.  
“Miss Capsali, actually” you corrected me before she could “She’s not married.”  
“Oh.” I said, this time I actually did feel a level of embarrassment. Being rude on accident felt different “It’s not that you look old, miss. I just thought you expected the same of yourself as you expect from (y/n).”  
“That makes sense.” there was no hint of sarcasm in her tone, only confusing me slightly. I took my cigar again.  
“I guess.” I said. Both of you smiled at each other, maybe noticing I was becoming uncomfortable.  
“I’m sorry about my husband.” you said to her when the smiles ended “He’s a bit… cold-hearted when he first meets someone.”  
I wasn’t sure whether you’d taken a jab at me. The way I had treated you hadn’t seem cold to me, especially since I was the one to offer closeness most of the time.  
“You know, I actually like your attitude.” she said, only turning to look at me for the last two words “You’re shameless, it’s kind of refreshing.”  
I then looked at her eyes and said “Well, thanks.” It did seem hypocritical of her after I heard her saying those things before, but of course she thought I hadn’t and that I was just being a bitch.  
“Just remember not to ruin it.” she then said. Seemed more like she was being sincere this time.  
“How?” I asked. You left your cup of tea on the small table to pay special attention to her.  
“People tend to exaggerate things they feel too comfortable with.” she said, also looking at you a couple of times “Until they become meaningless.”  
“Well, yeah, there is such a thing as having too much of a good thing, I’d say.” you told us.  
“It’s not just good things, though.” Elena continued.  
You stared at her during the silence, and I looked at you. To make you seem less interested, I reached for your tea cup and handed it to you.  
“For example” she started explaining “There’s people who are violent, some suppress it and some are comfortable with it. If they let ‘violent’ be the main aspect of their personality” at this point she took the cigarette to gesture with it “then it becomes bigger and they become more destructive. Eventually violence gets to be meaningless and they’ve lost their whole personality, aside from having lost everyone and everything in their lives.”  
I kept staring at you and smoking as she said this.  
“That’s interesting” I simply said when she was done.  
“So what if someone is only a bit violent?” you asked “Do they necessarily get worse?”  
Either I was getting paranoid or they both were trying to subtly have a conversation about me. It was hard to keep silent, since I also had thoughts that could have answered that question.  
“I can’t know those things.” Elena said. Then I went in.  
“Age makes people less violent, (y/n).” I said.  
“Well, I still think your circumstances can make those things vary.” she said.  
“Ah, you think?” I quickly said, making her turn to me as if I had interrupted her, which I very well could have done if she was about to say more.  
There was silence again, and you looked around at the garden further from the place we were. When I looked again, you were supporting your head with your hand in a fist, your elbow on the chair’s arm. Your eyes were closed.  
“(y/n)” I called. This made you open your eyes again, with a soft “Hm?”  
“Are you falling asleep?”  
“Uh, yes.” you said, then turned to look at Elena as you straightened your posture. “Sorry, I’m not bored, I’ve just been having some sleep issues lately.”  
She put some hair out of her face “You have?” she asked “How come?”  
“Well, it’s not that serious. Sometimes I fall asleep without meaning to, is all.”  
I couldn’t blame you for not going through the whole ‘can’t sleep at night and wake up unable to breathe and have hallucinations’ thing.  
The next thing you said after a few minutes surprised me.  
“Well, I think we should get going.” you told her “I’m not feeling my best right now.”  
“Oh, I understand.” she said “I hope you come back soon, (y/n).”  
“We will.” this made me half-smile when you said it. Those were the words I thought when she had spoken.  
“Like I said” she told you “I hope you in particular come back soon.”  
Although I was interested in proving Elena wrong, I was pissed about you being so trusting of her opinions in the first place. This is why I needed more closeness, among other reasons.

Day 9  
The first thing I wanted to say when you woke up, which was at 2 AM when I was also awake, was something like ‘sorry’. Instead, I let you come into the kitchen and glance at the couch believing I was asleep. It had to be saved for later. In any case I probably shouldn’t be bothering you when you needed to sleep.

When we went out to lunch I discovered you hadn’t forgotten about the shouting thing a couple of days before.  
“So what was with that woman?” you rushed to ask “The other day.”  
First I acted like I needed time to remember what you were talking about “Oh, uh…”  
“Well, I might have gotten into trouble with someone she knew.” I said. Admitting was convenient since I knew you’d keep asking until I did.  
“How?”  
It suddenly wasn’t that hard to act dumb “I don’t know, I have some enemies, you know how it is.”  
Your eyebrows got closer “No, I don’t”  
While I thought of something to say, you already knew what you’d say “She said something about you beating innocent people.”  
“He wasn’t innocent, believe me” I said, you kept the silence after this “I never do stuff like that unprovoked.”  
I had forced myself to forget what happened so much I didn’t know how much of that was lies.  
“Whatever you say.” was the last thing you said on it. There were smiles from you throughout the day, so I could guess you weren’t taking it too seriously, and maybe in a way you were accepting me being violent. Not that I’m trying to say you were naïve.

As we left I thought of pointing out that you’d worn pants for the first time, but I ended up just staring at your jeans for some moments. I was walking on thin ice still, or so it seemed, but I had this idea that if I forced it somewhat you’d get used to it, and start to become alright with it. This is why I also reached to touch your leg for a moment.  
“Huh?” was your reaction, almost a whisper. The expression you made wasn’t a frown. I didn’t think any further than maybe you were uncomfortable and you never mentioned this again either.

‘’I understand you feel lonely.’’ you said at night. This was much after dinner, when we were both supposed to be sleeping. You still had those jeans on, so I guessed you hadn’t even tried to sleep.  
‘’What are you talking about?’’ I asked. You rushed to answer.  
“N- Uh, I mean you live alone and all.” you said, then corrected “Lived.”  
“So what?” I asked. My intentions were rather to ask you why that comment came out of nowhere, but it didn’t happen.  
“Well” you started, then sighed “Sometimes when people are isolated they start becoming more antisocial.”  
“You took your friend too seriously.” I said “She knows nothing about me.”  
“She wasn’t talking about you.” you replied “And let me tell you something else: My friendship is between her and me. I don’t know why you act like it’s your business.”  
You were somewhat right about that. “But you made me go and meet her.”  
“I didn’t force you to do anything.” you said “I didn’t even need to convince you.”  
I remembered I was trying not to fight or even discuss anything seriously with you.  
“Yeah, you’re right.”  
That’s how it ended, but I still thought about you calling me lonely.

Day 10  
It might have been at around 6 AM when you woke me up.  
“Oh God, I saw something horrible again, Logan.” you told me, not looking at me. Instead you stared at the wall behind me.  
“What was it?” I faked a softer voice as I got up from the couch.  
Your hands took your head, there was more silence except for your heavy breathing.  
“I don’t know what it was exactly.” you said “some type of humanoid creature.”  
“Okay, that’s it.” I started. Sleepless, I imagined it was mainly the frustration with you waking me up what made me forget wanting to prove you wrong “I’m sleeping with you tonight.”  
“Excuse me?” you replied “No, that’s not happening.”  
“Why not?” I wasn’t yelling, but you seemed scared enough to start walking away from me.  
“I don’t want to.” you simply said “Don’t worry about it. I’m going back to sleep.”  
“Give me a reason not to.” I made even more of an effort this time to make my voice sound much softer than it would have been my instinct to.  
“I think ‘I don’t want to’ is a pretty good reason.” you were the one who raised her voice slightly.  
“The first day you pretty much told me you were cool with sleeping beside me.”  
“At some point, I would be, that’s what I said,” you told me “It is not yet that point.”  
“Why are you so opposed to it?” I asked you “Give me one good reason.”  
“There’s a lot of reasons. I just don’t think it’s appropriate to tell you about them.”  
“Just one.”  
You got some hair off your face.  
“It’s too intimate.” you blushed, as expected, while saying it.  
“We won’t touch.” I was genuinely getting calmer at this point.  
“It’s not that.” you told me “I’m not joking, I’m more willing to have sex with you than sleep together.”  
“Alright.” I said “then let’s have sex.”  
Softly you started shaking your head to say ‘no’.  
“Why not?” starting to get frustrated again as I said this was a mistake, because you already were shedding a tear a couple of seconds after I said it. Your eyes were already covered from me, I only saw it because it was rolling down your chin.  
“(y/n), what’s… why are you crying?” I probably sounded more curious than bothered.  
You still hid your eyes, and did for some more seconds. Then you could word something like “Just… it’s just not going to happen.”  
I rested my arm on the wall and took a deep breath. “Okay.”  
But the crying didn’t stop, nor did it get any softer.  
“Listen, I’m sorry.” I told you. You ignored me. Your sensitivity was getting difficult.  
“Is it about your boyfriend?”  
“Wh… wh.. at?” you asked.  
“The one your friend talked about with you the other day.” I let there be a pause as you got calmer to reply and said “Yes, I did hear it.”  
“Well, I don’t know if it’s because of him. I just know I’m not going to sleep with you.” the last words made me half-smile, since you tried to make them sound harsh but your crying drowned them. Seeing you cry was distressing no matter the reason, so even if I didn’t understand your motives I wanted to stop it. You faced the wall and covered your face by letting your hair fall over it.  
“How about this?” I asked as I got even closer and put my arm on your back and started sliding it down to your waist, slowly to give you time to react to it. You didn’t, so I got my other hand on your shoulder. The first arm I ended up having around your waist, then my other arm made it clear I was hugging you from behind. Your cries softened after moments. Nothing had made it easier to get up in the morning like knowing I could make you feel better only by touching you the right way.

After work I walked past the bar from before. Maybe I was looking to get what happened to me. I’m referring to when just by taking a look inside the bar I met the gaze of someone who immediately started approaching me. He didn’t look like the blond from before, but later made it clear they must have been friends of sorts.  
“You look familiar.” he said to me.  
“You think?” a snarky reply came out of my mouth even though I was planning to not provoke anything or anyone. At least not just by glancing at the place.  
“I very much do.” he said, lowering his voice, maybe to sound menacing “You look like someone that beats people for no reason at all.”  
“Ah.” I said “Well, let’s not judge by appearance.”  
He didn’t scare me by himself, but after this some other guys walked towards him and stood in front of me siding with him. He wasn’t able to reply before one of them broke the silence to punch me right on the nose. He had a sort of metal attached to his glove, because it didn’t seem to hurt him at all. At first I blatantly decided to escape instead of fight, for the sake of avoiding them trying to kill me only to discover that I was a mutant.  
“Please.” I said, touching my nose after this to cover the fast healing.  
Still I believed I could convince them they were wrong and make them leave me alone if I lost enough pride, but I had to also count on no one else in the bar recognizing me “Please, I think you’ve got me mistaken with someone.”  
“Yeah, yeah.” another one said “You’re gonna fight like you wanted to so badly before? Or you’re gonna run to your wife?”  
They must’ve come with that blonde woman, the one I believed to be his sister, if they were so sure it was me, so I had to give up that act.  
“I’m not fighting.” I said as I frantically scanned the place for the bouncer.  
“I am.” I heard from yet another guy in the group. He walked towards me as I walked back, getting from the sidewalk to the street. Somehow I was able to keep my nose covered as he hit my jaw and kicked my thigh. Then the first guy took me by the shoulders and underarms to make the job easier, moved my hand away from my nose too. They didn’t seem to notice the sudden healing, clearly he was more concerned with punching me more until I got tired and took his jaw. After this I grabbed it towards me and let him fall face first on the ground. The guy who grabbed me stopped doing it to help him. This is when the other two started trying to do the same, one to grab me and the other to kick me in the face. The latter made an “ah!” audible even among shouting at having kicked metal, and the other rushed to take me by the head and cover my face. With my hands still free I searched for his neck and he pulled away at the threat of getting choked. Without being provoked in-between, I kicked one and punched the other in the face, before running away. Sometimes violence is absurd, sometimes not. It’s that simple.


	5. Will There Be Stars

_Day 11_  
Although I didn’t sleep with you the night before, you’d slept undisturbed that night, from what I could tell. There was no heavy breathing or a scent of a distressed woman. Because of the hug of the previous day, it seemed to me that I was closer to getting you on my bed.  
“How come you’re always drinking but you’re never drunk?” you asked me in the morning.  
“I developed tolerance” I answered so fast I worried it might have been suspicious.  
You sipped some more tea and looked at me, then turned to look behind me for a couple of seconds “Hmm”.  
“Is that a flower petal on your tea?” I asked you, both curious and trying to not dwell on the drinking topic.  
You looked at the petal floating on the surface of the tea “A what? Ah, yeah” you said “I planted the flowers and they’re still going strong.”  
I replied by staring at you, something I didn’t realize until you looked back and immediately at somewhere else.  
“You want to see them?” you asked me when I also looked elsewhere.  
It was morning and too early to go to work, so I said yes. This made you stand up, leaving the cup on the table. I followed you for a couple steps to the kitchen window. From the bottom part of the frame hung a wooden box with flowers. Some were yellow and others pink, and a couple of other plants could hang from it.  
“It looks nice” I told you, then looked at you in the eyes. Your response was a sigh, but you smiled through it. Soon you took your gaze away from me and towards the plants again. This didn’t make me shy away from touching you again. What happened the day before made it clear to me that you liked affection, maybe even that you were an affectionate person but wanted to hide it and pretend to be cold-hearted. So while you still looked at the flowers or some other thing that the window gave view to, I stretched my arm enough to reach the side of your waist furthest from me. With four fingers I could touch your hip, and stroked your waist with my thumb. I did it so slowly that it took you some seconds to realize it was a caress. When it happened, you looked at me again. It wasn’t a glare, but a curious stare with no stress on the brows and slightly parted lips, only making me imagine you wanted a kiss. Of course I didn’t go for it, though. It took a very specific situation for us to hug, so I figured there had to be more going on for me to pull it off.  
While I approached the truck, I think I saw someone. It was the worst features I could have expected: a blond man with a button-down shirt, from what I could tell before I quickly turned to look somewhere else so as to not be caught staring. I told the driver to rush and that I was being followed, which at the time I did believe. When we started leaving, the blond man did too, but throughout all the trips from one place to the other I imagined I could still suddenly find him at any point.  
After all we had to do was done, I got back home directly, to see that you were asleep on the sofa. It all seemed clean, though. I decided to close the door quietly and open the fridge to see what I could get without having to prepare it.  
“You want to have dinner now?” you asked when I closed the fridge door after finding nothing, still lying down. You kept talking as I got closer and thought of my reply.  
“It’s still gonna take me like half an hour.” you said.  
“No, I’m alright.” I told you “I just wanted something to calm me down.”  
The phrasing was deliberate, although you didn’t have much of a reaction to it.  
“Oh.” I heard from you, as you sat down on the sofa.  
“Hm” I made a sound as I stretched, trying to make the next line seem casual “How about you give me a massage?”  
This made you take one hand with the other and look at me. At first your expression was confused, drawing your brows together, then you just looked down.  
“I’m not sure.” you said “I know it’s not like sleeping with you at all, but it feels a bit intimate for the fact we’ve known each other for like… a week and a half?”  
“No.” this just came out of my mouth without me having thought about it much.  
“What?”  
I took a long breath before I replied “What do you think ‘open-minded’ means? Because I remember writing that on the sign I put outside my door.”  
“Logan” you just called. It was a tone of begging rather than one of disapproval.  
“Listen, I just want to relax, it was a hard day at work and you can help me.” I said. This ended up being enough to partly convince you.  
“Alright, I don’t really think I give good massages, but I can scratch your back. Guys like that, don’t they?”  
“I do like it.” I said, and figured that’s as far as we’d get that day. I only tried to push it a bit more “In your bedroom?”  
“Yeah” you just said, even though you had moved to one extreme of the sofa, seemingly to let me sit or lie on it. Then you stood up and followed me. Since you kept all your stuff on the other room, I knew your bedroom would be just the bed and nightstand. You kept some stuff on that nightstand, and presumably inside of it. There was a small handheld mirror and a book on top of it.  
“I guess you want to lie on the bed?” you asked me, and I did instead of replying. Before this, I took off my jacket and hung it on the headboard. Once I was on the bed, with my back facing you, you started softly scratching my back through my shirt.  
“That’s nice.” I said, then said slightly louder “You can be stronger with the nails if you want.”  
When I said that, you started rubbing the tip your nails with more force on my back, and it did feel better. “Fuck, I like that.”  
Throughout all of this, you were sitting on the bed, but you were so close to me that your hips touched mine. I wondered if you could hear it since it was almost a whisper and there was no reaction from you. It also made me remember that you could start getting sleepy suddenly, and just not tell me. It took some minutes for the scratching to get softer, which told me it had started happening.  
“You okay?” I asked.  
“Mm-m.” you said after a sigh. Then there was only one hand on my back. I turned around to see the other one pressing your forehead. When I was about to tell you something, you started rubbing my back again.  
“Mmhh” I kept going with the way you scratched my back hard. I’d seen your nails and they had polish on them but you kept them short. At times it was your fingertips directly pressing on my back, through the shirt though. After some minutes I knew I wanted to feel your skin on mine with nothing in between.  
This went on for a while and then your scratching started to get softer again, and before you stopped I asked you:  
“Do you want me to give you a massage?” I asked, then remembered the reason why you didn’t want to give me one “On the neck.”  
Your fingers left my back after one last caress, and I waited a pause before you said “Yes.”  
That made me stand up slowly as you did. With the same speed, I touched just above your waist to guide it and have you facedown on the bed. It did surprise me that you silently let me do that. I sat closer to the upper part of your body and started getting my fingers all over that neck.  
“Oh.” was all I heard from you, whispered a few times. I gave myself the freedom to get to your shoulders too, which had the same effect but no other comment from you. Because of that, I knew you enjoyed it. But I still wanted you to admit it.  
“How does that feel?” I asked you.  
You barely whispered a moan again, before saying “Nice, I like it.”  
Instead of replying with something I could have regretted, I just kept going and touching you all the places I could get to without you stopping the little noises of approval. I could get to touch your upper back and until your collarbone, but when I went down from there, you used your shoulder to push my arm away.  
“Alright, no chest.” I said and touched your arms a bit before getting back to your neck.

  
_Day 12_  
That was the day I realized I had a reputation already. When I walked towards my car after work, someone approached me. It wasn’t the same guy I’d seen the day before, so I felt curious rather than threatened.  
“Hey!” he said as he walked past and stopped “You’re the fighter!”  
He smiled as he said that, and pointed at me with an open hand, almost like he wanted a variation of a high five.  
“Huh” I say, and get further from him “Sorry, I think you’ve got me confused with someone.”  
After saying that I started walking the opposite direction, and ended up in a new bar and figured you’d expect me to turn up late often.  
It was hard to be sure whether people were staring at me or it was all in my head because it was clear that at least a couple people that didn’t know me already had me branded as someone who ‘fought’. In any case, I stayed there for an hour or so, and drank the whole time, until I stopped thinking of the people looking at me and what their intentions could be. I also didn’t consider the possibility of meeting someone I’ve fought with before, but it didn’t happen anyway.  
When I got back, your ‘hi’ was shorter and drier than last time. It occured to me that you knew if I arrived a couple hours after my shift had ended, it was because I had been drinking. Still, you started preparing my plate as soon as you saw me. As soon as you put it on the table in front of me though, you went to your room and there were no other words said. Maybe I should’ve used the flowers thing again. My cigar made me company after I ate. While I smoked, I remembered what Elena said about me being ‘overly-masculine’, and you having a ‘thing’ for guys like that. Although I knew it was meant to imply something negative, she admitted just with those words that it was logical you’d be attracted to me. However, the guy before seemed to have been terrible and also masculine, so there was also the possibility of you now being turned off by that. But that contradicted the attraction I seemed to sense from you towards me, it was just that I wasn’t sure whether I was making your words and gestures out to be something they weren’t.  
Before you went to bed, I got to see you wearing your little sleeveless top and your pants. You had your hair up but in a messier way, and had taken your makeup off.  
“Will you sleep alright?” I realized it was a pointless thing to ask even before I did it, but I wanted some confirmation on whether I was just thinking you were colder than the previous day or you really were.  
“Yeah” you simply said, and walked towards the bedroom.  
“I can give you a massage” I said as I stood up from the couch.  
“I’ll be fine” you replied.  
I didn’t hear cries or smell you getting stressed that night.

  
_Day 13_  
When I came back from work, the dishes were half-done. This didn’t bother me, and it’d happened a couple times before and you ended up washing them all. You weren’t in the living room, so I went to look for you inside your room. Before I could, you came out of it.  
“Hi” you said “you want dinner?”  
I said yes and you went to the kitchen, while I asked you how your days was.  
That made you turn to look at me. You weren’t used to me asking that.  
“Well… I fell asleep a lot today. It was hard to finish anything.”  
You pointed at the dishes on the sink with your gaze.  
“I see.” I told you, and gave myself a couple seconds to think of something comforting to say “Soon you’ll get your tests and feel much better, (y/n).”  
“I know” you said softly.  
At night I went to the couch and sat there, watching TV. I hadn’t had a moment like that in a long time. I mean a moment in which I could feel ‘alone’ like before. As I went through it again, I realized it wasn’t something I missed. You went out of your room, with your makeup still on and one of your long, casual dresses you wore during the day.  
“Are you going somewhere?” I asked, making sure my tone didn’t come off as an accusation.  
“No” you replied and sighed. You still stood in front of me, but walked to be a bit closer.  
“I washed the curtains today.” you told me “And they’re still drying”  
“Yeah, I noticed” I said as I turned to look at the living room window, dark even in comparison to only the TV light in the room.  
“Thing is that we can see the night out there, and the stars are bright.” you said to me.  
I smile a bit, thinking you’d been trying to say something romantic “You say that like it’s bad.”  
“It is” you said, then made a pause in which you took a part of your dress’ skirt and squeezed it “Kind of.”  
I stood up, not meaning it to come off menacing, so I remembered not to cross my arms “Why?”  
Your gaze shifted towards everywhere but the window “I don’t like stars, or space or… anything like that. I’m scared of it, rather.”  
A smile worked to hide my laugh “What?”  
“Yeah.” you said “I mean, I feel fine now, but I haven’t been able to sleep looking at stars in many years.”  
I could feel my stare towards you.  
“Alright, alright.” I tell you, digesting the fact that you were scared of something most people loved seeing at night. I sat down on the couch again. “So what should I do?”  
“I was thinking we could sleep in the same room, maybe, since I would probably feel safer and such.” you tell me.  
“Oh” I say, after you showing what it would take for you to sleep with me. “Yes, of course I’ll sleep with you.”  
“I just mean in the same room. Maybe you can bring the couch into the bedroom? Or something like that.”  
That wouldn’t fit through the bedroom door.  
“No, I’ve tried it before, it won’t work.” I said, and drove my fingers to my chin to fake being in deep thought “I’ll bring the couch pillows and some blankets.”  
As soon as I was done making a sort of bed with those, I sat down facing the bed. You were there, already having changed clothes and taken your makeup off. You also had your hair in one big braid.  
“You look nice.”  
Your reply was a dry “thanks”, but you still lay down on one side, facing me. It was also because the window was on the other side.  
“Does talking about stars bother you too?” I asked “Or is it just looking at them?”  
With this, you sighed.  
“Just seeing them, I guess.” you told me.  
“Do you think you’ll have trouble sleeping?” I asked, to start thinking of something to help you if it was necessary.  
“Yes.” your expression was neutral as you said this, and you looked at me firmly  
“Alright.” I said, and looked around “So what can help you sleep?”  
“I’m not sure” you told me. I knew I was avoiding having to think of something myself. “Maybe just talking.”  
“Well, we could talk.” I said, and took a risk with the next thing “What do you think makes you afraid of stars?”  
“I don’t know” you said and covered yourself more with the blankets “I think it’s the fact that they’re so far and space is wide and we don’t even know where it ends or what.”  
“Oh” I said, and made a pause before talking to make sure you weren’t going to say anything else “And do you mind going out at night where you can see them?”  
“Not really, they’re above me. When you see them through a fifth-story window it feels like they’re all there is.”  
That was a grim way of putting it.  
“Yeah, space is a void all around us.” I told you, maybe to comfort with agreement “I see what you mean.”  
“Maybe it makes me think of death.” you said, as you moved your braid towards your back.  
I didn’t think much before replying “Are you afraid of dying?”  
“I think everyone is, yeah” you told me “Just cause we know nothing about it. Aren’t you afraid of it?”  
I needed a moment to think of how to justify it.  
“Not much, no.” I told you “I guess it’s just like sleeping forever.”  
“I don’t want to sleep forever.”  
This made me want to change subjects, even if I knew the teasing bothered you slightly.  
“So how does it feel sleeping with me?” I asked, trying to make the face closest to what I understood as a lighthearted-joke-appropriate one.  
“Huh.” you said, not amused “It’s not as weird as I thought it would be. I think I’m adjusting well to my new life.”  
“Did you leave everything behind?”  
“Well, clearly not. You met my friend, I have my stuff here, and I haven’t spoken to my parents much but it hasn’t been that long anyway.”  
That last part was what seemed weird to me. And I figured that maybe you adjusted well because you came from a much worse situation, and it had something to do with your parents or at least with that ex-boyfriend that you didn’t want to talk about.  
“I don’t see you talk to your family either.” you told me.  
It had to be asked at some point since I hadn’t mentioned it and for most people it was such a central part of their lives. But I didn’t expect it. I thought you had already figured out I was a loner and wouldn’t question it.  
“I’ve lost contact with them temporarily.” I told you.  
“Oh” you said “You don’t get along?”  
“No, they’re very good people.” I said “But something happened and it was my fault. I guess I needed time to be alone before seeing them again.”  
My reply left you thinking, from what I could tell in your expression. “I get it.”

  
_Day 14_  
In the morning you went out to get groceries to make lunch. I’d take you out to dinner again. When you left, I went outside the complex to smoke, and there I stayed until I saw you enter the apartment.  
You had already started preparing food when I went in.  
“Are you okay?” I asked because the way you were cutting was much faster than I’d seen you do it, and you hadn’t taken your eyes off that to see that I had come in. You even made a small gasp when I spoke.  
“Yeah.” you said and just kept going.  
I could’ve gone outside, but decided to stay in the living room since you were rushing.  
Once the food was cooking and you just moved the wooden spoon on a pan a couple of times a minute, you were much calmer.  
“Why did you decide to employ me so quickly?” you asked me.  
That was a question that I didn’t think you were ever going to ask me, but the last days had seen so much talking about when we met.  
“Why do you ask?”  
“I just want to know” you said without looking at me “Now that I think about it, you were very quick to accept it. Was I the first one to ask about it?”  
I sighed to give myself time to think of an answer.  
“Yeah, you were the first one.” I knew this would give the impression that I didn’t find you special and I was just desperate, evidenced by your “huh” reply.  
“Well, I was searching for an attractive woman who was willing to get friendly.” I told you.  
“Open-minded” you quoted my words “So you just needed someone.”  
“Not just anyone.” I assured you. This might have not been enough.  
“You’re pretty much admitting to being very lonely” you told me “because you’re not that picky about who comes into your house, apparently.”  
Thing is, I wanted someone I could trust, more than anything. A woman who had issues hearing, with foreign parents. That seemed like someone with no ties to anyone who would want to hurt me.  
“Like I said, you’re a pretty girl, you wanted to work and you were okay with my requests, so I gave you the job.” I said “You just happened to be the first one to ask about it.”  
Your soft expression wanted to be a glare, but was just a stare.  
“And besides, how did you even find out about it?” I asked “Did you live by the neighborhood? I only had papers around here and on my door.”  
The question made you look elsewhere, and take one wrist with the other hand.  
“No” you said “I just walked through it.”  
It was going to take me some seconds to think of a reply, so you spoke again before I could.  
“Maybe you were as desperate to not be alone as I was to find a place to stay.”  
It was pointless to deny that I felt lonely.  
“Hm” I replied “You didn’t think it much through before coming?”  
You started putting food on the plates.  
“No, and it was reckless now that I think about it. You were a stranger and asking me to wear revealing clothes so upfront was kind of weird, so you probably also knew I was desperate.”  
I remembered my exact wording and calling your clothes outdated. And looking back, it was a very strong way to act to someone who I didn’t know and was going to suddenly start living with me. At the time I hadn’t really assumed you were desperate, but the more I thought about that day, the more it seemed that you were running away from something. But the massage a couple days ago had shown you were getting comfortable with me.  
This thought came back when you got ready for dinner and wore a short dress with heels. Your legs were nice to look at. Once we were seated and we had ordered, you spoke after a while of silence from you:  
“You know, I think you’re attractive too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I know, still not a lot going on, but I promise the next chapter will pack much more of a punch, you just wait some more days. I swear next one won’t take more than a couple weeks.


	6. Closer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know basically nothing about MMA so do forgive inaccuracies and awkward wording please. And yes, it took more than a couple weeks. It took several months. I do have other projects, etc. but I’m still passionate about this one, it will just be slower.

Day 15  
In the morning you talked more about the thing of your past that I’d heard you talk about with Elena. It wasn’t much, a mention if anything. I’d probably been thinking about it much more than you had during the last days. You wore a short skirt and a tight shirt under your apron, it let me see more of your nice legs. After you served breakfast, we started talking. It was you who started.

“You know? I think I know what started this Narcolepsy, if that’s what I have.” you said this as you took our plates and put them in the sink.

“What was it?” I asked you, not needing to fake sounding interested. You started preparing coffee as you explained it to me, and first said:

“You want some?” you pointed the empty mug at me.

“No, (y/n), just tell me.” I might have sounded somewhat cold.

“Well, it has to do with the thing we spoke about a couple days ago. The conversation I had with Elena, that you eavesdropped on.” your voice was first loud and then got lower, which I interpreted as being a serious tone.

“Ah.” I got up to sit on the couch, getting further from you and also (I imagine) inviting you to sit with me.

“Something happened to me right before I came here with you, and I think it’s the cause of this. I don’t know, I might be exaggerating.” you said.

“What are you referring to?” I asked, turning my body towards you. You noticed this and turned around for your back to face me.

“That thing about my ex-boyfriend. Something happened when I lived with him, and right after that I went back to my parents, and I almost immediately found your sign.”

As you walked towards the couch to sit down, I replied:

“You’re leaving a lot for me to just guess.” my guess is that it was something violent that you thought I wouldn’t be able to understand and help your emotions with. And you probably were right about that.

“Well, yeah.” you just said “The point is that something happened in my head. I think that started it all.”

“I see.” I tell you, getting that you weren’t going to say much more about it than that “And what have you been doing about it for now?”

“Well, drinking coffee in the mornings. But that tends to just make it so that I am awake for a couple hours after that, not much more.”

I got my body closer to yours on the couch before saying more.

“And what about the sleep paralysis?” I asked “Or the gasping for air?”

“I’ve been fine about that” you said “It hasn’t happened again.”

The last thing especially had me worried. I was thinking that maybe one night you’d struggle for air and end up dying before I knew what I could even do about it.

“Try always sleeping on your side.” I told you. In reality I was also thinking of a way to get more money to get those tests started faster and then give you enough for any medicine that you might need. I was pretty tired on the evenings on the weekdays, but I could look for something on the weekends.

Day 16  
Since sundays were established as the days I took you out to have lunch, you were ready by the late morning, wearing a sundress. I noticed the lack of flirty eyes that I sometimes got to have a glance at when I took you out for dinner or lunch. Your arms were crossed as we sat in front of each other on the table.

“Something’s wrong, isn’t it? You had a nightmare?” I asked about what seemed the most likely to me.

“No” you just said, but uncrossed your arms as you replied.  
For some reason that question by itself had improved your mood the rest of the day. Even just after that, you started talking more.

“Tell me more about your family” you said.

“They’re not that interesting” I wondered if that had sounded convincing.

“Everyone’s interesting.” you told me “You just have to talk about the right things.”

But I didn’t want to. Or rather, wasn’t about to.

“Well, it’s kind of an uncomfortable topic.” I said. I knew this would make you think that I had some tragic past or unresolved trauma from them, but it was best if you thought that. This meant I wouldn’t have to drop anything on you, anything that you weren’t ready for.

“And what about yours?” I asked “You haven’t said much either.”

Your reply was a sort of half-smile and a sigh.

“Yeah, they haven’t said much to me.” you said “Ever since I started living here.”

I made silence, thinking you’d keep on explaining it. You did, while looking at me in the eyes.

“They do pick up the phone when I’ve called, but they don’t ever call me.” you said “It’s just not been the same since I left…” you stopped for a moment and looked elsewhere “My ex.”

“What happened with your ex, then?” I was unsure of my wording as I asked, so said it softly and she showed not hearing that well.

“What?”

I had time to reconsider my question, but I still wanted to have it clear “What happened with your ex? You told me something yesterday about it.”

“Oh yeah, uh...” you started, and looked around before answering “It’s really just that it was a difficult breakup.”

“You said it did something in your mind. But I don’t think your condition can be caused by something like that.”

“Oh no, Logan.” you seemed surprised, if not offended as you replied, not giving yourself time to see if I would say something else “I said something happened to my head. I meant it very literally.”

Your bright sundress gave a contrast with the mood you were then getting into. First you could have been mad at me, but now there was a gloomy look of worry on your face. There was a slight frown too. The wording had given me something to think of. It didn’t take very long to see that I was right about my first guesses. Something violent had happened, something he’d done. I figured it wasn’t something you wanted to give details of, so I didn’t keep the topic going. I also wasn’t sure if I myself wanted to hear you telling the story of getting beaten or what have you. It was at these times that I found once again how I often downplayed others’ complexity. People never lead lives as peaceful as one might think. Even seeing a person everyday is not enough to understand them completely.

But for now the issue was giving you some sort of comfort, so I made sure you knew there was no pressure.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” I said. 

The reply was still uncomfortable. You just looked down.

“So, how did you and Elena meet?” I asked to change the topic.

You sighed and looked in front of you, though not exactly at me “We’re childhood friends.”

Throughout lunch you kept telling me some stories of you and Elena that at some point convinced me that she had good intentions and liked you much, although I still never got to feel her as someone very genuine.

It was that night when I again walked past that bar. The one where I had gotten myself in a hole I wasn’t going to get out of unless I were to move again. It was a deliberate choice to walk past it. My mood was rather on the side of feeling some sense of risk again. My life was beginning to feel too comfortable, to strangely quiet ever since I started working as a mailman and got the apartment. It felt fake. To myself and everyone who didn’t know who and what I really was. Maybe some of my dislike of Elena was pure projection. I myself wasn’t that genuine either. At my core, I wasn’t that peaceful or even civilized. The old subject and debate of whether a person could fight against what they were made to be resurfaced once in a while. I imagined it was a similar sense of fear to the one you had of thinking of death too deep once in a while. It was one of those things it was better not to think too much about, else one would trigger that sense of hopelessness that it was hard to not carry everywhere.

A man waved at me from an establishment right beside the bar. He half-smiled as if we had already met. I turned to look at him and smiled in case I had met him and didn’t recognize him. He quickly revealed his intentions, though. I heard something like “hey, please” in a friendly tone. While I walked towards him, he rested his back on the front door of the place. Once I reached him, he started talking and said that he thought I’d be a great fighter and could earn a lot with him. He was very upfront and specific, saying I’d only need to fight on weekend nights. “You seem like you have a stable job as well.”

I decided not to reply to that in particular, but I did ask more about it. Not like I was starting to get convinced. It was obviously risky to expose myself as a fighter which would mean exposing myself as a mutant sooner or later. Not very interested in answering those questions, he chose to talk about his origins and life. His name was Mark Gerrard and he was from Biloxi. He became interested in mixed martial arts in his thirties, after his teenage and young adult years full of street fights. He did seem scarred in some places, but apparently still liked to see fights given that he was associated with the bar owner and got people to pay to see somewhat spontaneous fights in different places. The rest of his speech was about how in Biloxi people were quicker to reach for a gun during a fight, and people in Santa Barbara weren’t very resentful. Clearly we had different perspectives on that place. Those memories were what got me thinking about whether he was really trying to recruit me because he’d seen me ‘fight’ with some people outside the bar and decided I was uncontrollable beast that it was best to have by his side. But I was so tame, or at least I thought I had seemed that way, that it made more sense to me that he was just trying to get some more people into his business.

“So you saw me fight that other day, I guess?” 

“That was not a fight, son.” he said to me “You were going easy on him.”

Embarrassing. That I had really gone out that day to the bar and had looked for a fight to start. Now it felt like a multitude already subtly knew and spoke about me, maybe collectively figuring out that I wasn’t quite like them in my biology.

So yes, it was pointless to deny that I had just tried to find someone to beat up and that I had some strength hidden.

“I’m usually not like that.”

“No need to apologize. It’s just misguided talent.”

“There’s no apologies here. I’m making it clear that’s not me.” I said, trying to make my tone convincing, not as much like I was lying to myself.

“So I guess you’ll need more time to think it through.” he said. It was obvious that me saying no would only keep him insisting.

“I have a wife and children.” I said, only inventing excuses that he probably saw right through. Although living with a disabled woman who I felt responsible of wasn’t too different at the time.

“Well, you can come back whenever you need to make some more money, you know.” he said. I caught a last glimpse of the inside of that place. It was pretty dark to tell much even with daylight. It had a few small windows here and there, and seemed spacious and empty.

“I’ll keep it in mind.” I just said before leaving.

Day 17  
As you made breakfast, I watched and noticed you being a bit more full of energy, from the way you moved quickly from one part of the kitchen to another. You wore a short dress, made of rather bright colors.

“How have you been feeling lately?” I thought I could figure out the answer, but I also wanted to show I was thinking of you.

“Maybe a bit better” you said “the last few days.”

“Yeah, it seems. You look very nice today.” I walked a couple steps towards you as I said it. I think I pulled it off in making it seem like a natural gesture.

“Thanks” you said. I’d said that knowing that I could have affected your mood or you could have taken it the wrong way, but I decided to take the risk. Your smile as you replied reassured me.

After I had breakfast with you, there was some more silence and then the sound of the coffee machine working.

“I guess I’m still gonna need this, though.” you said, touching the top of the machine, then looking at me while walking away from it.

“You shouldn’t really need it.”

Your face was different now that I’d said that. Like you’ve gotten serious now.

“Yeah, I guess, but I don’t want to faint for a few hours or anything.” you smiled while saying it, like it was a genuine concern, so I took it as one.

“Are you really that vulnerable without me?” I must have shown in some way that I was worried, through my expressions.

“Without you?” your arms were crossed now. Strange, but for some reason at that moment it seemed a better idea to take a minute to think of how to explain myself instead of just being impulsive. Because of that, you ended up continuing before I said anything else.

“I don’t really ‘faint’ like that, I just have to sleep at times and can’t control it.” your hands were now resting on the counter “I guess I meant it in a… humorous way.”

“Oh” I said “Well, I mean, you don’t really tend to have that much of a sense of humor so I didn’t get it.”

What I saw you do as a response was to sigh and look at the ceiling. A more subtle way to roll one’s eyes.

“You don’t even know me.”

“See?” I went. Clearly by that moment I had given up on thinking too much about my responses. 

“You don’t know me.” you repeated “You know, just ‘cause you’re older doesn’t mean you’re my father or something.”

“All I said is that you didn’t have a sense of humor. And I’m just saying that from what I know of you. You don’t have to take it so fucki-”

I stopped myself there, although it was obvious what I was getting at. When I saw you start to cross your arms again, I took a cigar and all the stuff I needed for work and left, only saying “See ya” before closing the door behind me. I got to smoke for some time before I really left to work. It’s not that I wasn’t considering how you’d feel, but I wasn’t used to watching how I speak to others at every moment of the day. No person I met frequently in that city was blunt enough for me. There was some evidence then to show that I was maybe too much of a loner to live with someone, especially someone like you.

Day 18  
The previous night hadn’t either shown much communication between both of us. But in the morning I noticed something different about your smell. It was metallic, rusty. Definitely blood with a few other notes in there, together with the smell of the coffee you were drinking.

“Are you feeling alright?” I asked, trying to be subtle about it.

“I’m having cramps.” you were quick to answer, and closed your eyes for a few moments.

“Oh” I said, and sat on the table’s chair across from you “What can I do to help you?”

“Uh, I don’t know.” you replied “I really just think I’ll take some naproxen, or whatever you have around.”

“I can rub your belly if you want” I said, but you just stood up while shaking your head slightly.

“No, thanks.” you then said, and sat on the sofa while holding your belly with your hand. Your eyes were closed as you started changing positions and eventually ended up with your calves on the armrest and the rest of your body lying on the dark cushions of the sofa.

“Alright” I said then, as I prepared to go to work “There’s some medicine in one of the cupboards.”

At work, my body wasn’t letting me focus as much as I could usually force myself to. I got a few erections that refused to go down and sometimes I had to wait some minutes before bringing a package to some places in order to not come off disturbing to anyone. It was maybe strange, but the thought of you bleeding as a sign of fertility was arousing. I started to regret that I didn’t insist at least a couple times to rub your belly. Maybe it would have helped you, and I was curious about how I’d feel doing it too. I was aware it was a rather animalistic thing to fixate on and be attracted by. Still, the whole subject in my mind as I went from place to place was menstruation. At some point there was more curiosity than arousal, but I still wanted to smell you more between the legs, maybe see you as well, although I knew you wouldn’t have let me.

I was able to get all deliveries done for the day, then I went home. Excited. Not sure what exactly I expected to get from you, but I already felt there was something primal and sexual between us hidden somewhere, and that you could let go of your sophisticated mannerisms once in a while. Point is, I really wanted sex. I opened the door to the apartment, took my uniform shirt off to just have my undershirt, and went directly into the room that I made your bedroom since day one. I hadn’t knocked. But I tried acting naturally about it as if I had no ulterior motives and just went in to say hi.

“Hey” I said. You were lying on the bed and apparently had been asleep.

“Hi” you said “Dinner is ready, I just have to heat it on the stove for a bit.”

“Yeah.” I just replied “How are you feeling now? Your cramps.”

“Umm… I’m better, I think.” you said “Is it too hot in here for you?”

I sighed and stretched my arms “A bit.” Then I kept staring at you as you still sat on the bed. I walked a step towards you, still looking into your eyes.

“What?” you whispered.

“Nothing.” I said “You sure you don’t want me to rub your belly while you lie down? I think dinner can wait.”

“No, the pain’s gone down, really.” you said, and stood up to go to the kitchen.

The scent was even stronger as you walked past me. I followed you as you prepared the food and served it on the plates. I knew then there was no point in insisting, so I kept it all to myself. About an hour after dinner, you started to lie down and rub your own belly again. It was clear that the problem was my touch. Maybe you were still mad at me after the small argument of the previous day. Or maybe you just didn’t feel that close to me.

That night I learned more. Even through the door I could hear something that I hadn’t before, and the smell of menstrual blood had some added notes, rather acidic ones. What I heard was your heavy breathing, but it was different from the one of having a nightmare or other sleep disturbance. It was more energetic, like working out. I got up and away from the sofa, towards your bedroom and quietly got my ear closer to the small gap between the door and the wall. Getting closer to the sound also allowed me to hear that you were moaning but trying to be silent. Just the scent had given me an erection a while before, but now that it was clear you were masturbating, it was harder than ever. I wanted to spread your legs apart and have the most intense version of that smell right there for me. It didn’t seem like you’d noticed me at the other side of the door. And if you did, you didn’t mind. Your moans got slightly louder after a while, and I just took off my boxers to jack off too. I knew I was able to be completely silent the whole way through, while focusing on my thoughts of fucking you and seeing the blood on my dick, having the scent be even stronger as I take more blood out. Most of all I wanted to hear you making those ultra-feminine moaning sounds, but louder as if you couldn’t deal with so much pleasure. I wanted to see you doing something wild and dirty like that, and enjoy every second and then tell me you want it again. I didn’t have much patience and really considered just going in the room and telling you we had to do it now. But I knew it would scare you enough to drive you away from me for some time, so I figured it was best to wait and have more of a chance. Your moans were even louder for some seconds, so much that I might have been able to hear them even not in the position I was, but from the sofa instead. After them, you stopped completely and I only heard some more breathing. I went back to the sofa as quietly as I could, and kept going. In order to cum quickly I had to cross the line and think of licking your whole pussy and making you look at my bloodied beard. That was it. It was only a moment in which I allowed myself to go further, and it was enough to get all my cum on the sofa’s cushion and fall asleep almost immediately after.

An afterthought that I got early in the morning as I woke up was that the whole time I hadn’t been so sure whether there was any evidence to tell me all that meant you were attracted to me. You could have been masturbating to whatever you imagined at that moment. And I really had to get self-aware for a second as a short man with a somewhat animal-looking face who didn’t always treat you that well to begin with. But it also didn’t seem like you were disgusted by me or even disliked me a little, so I had to risk something even if you were living with me and I was putting a lot on the table. I decided it was worth a shot, especially since we had already been basically going out on dates for a couple of weeks now.


End file.
